


Patience is Power, Pumpkin

by vant



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Okay so everyone writes reader to be super sassy when facing jack, and i think it’d be interesting to write a kind yet bold reader and an in-character handsome jack, but i am a firm believer in patience and kindness, ohohOH you’re gonna piss him off so much, this is set pretty soon after he became Extra Evil™
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-05-23 15:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14937272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vant/pseuds/vant
Summary: You’re fresh meat at Hyperion, honest to god you didn’t know why you got the job of being the CEO’s assistant right off the bat, or how Hyperion is a dangerous company to be affiliated with in the first place.Until you met him at least.Upon finding out that Handsome Jack was a tyrranical ruler and his employees drop like flies (in a murdery kinda way) you didn’t know what to do. But not to worry!Jack is just as thrown off by you as you are of him.





	1. You Really Got Stitched Up, Didn’t You?

You’re standing on the tips of your toes, desperately trying to maintain your balance as the galaxy’s easily most terrifying man is holding you up in the air by your collar. Not to mention he’s holding an Earnest Logan pistol under your jaw. You know that one shot from that gun will not only kill someone, but as soon as the bullet makes contact with skin the victim will burst into flame. What can you say? You’re into weapons. Just... Not in this way. And in this moment, having a legendary pistol so close to you doesn’t take away from your internal panic.

A sadistic grin slowly spreads on Jack’s face as he watches you try not to squirm in his grip. The hot metal of the gun presses deeper into your neck, making you wince. Tears of pain prick your eyes as you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, and you internally kick yourself for not doing research on your boss before applying (well, it was more like volunteering) for this job. But really, what could’ve you done to avoid this?

***

_-18 hours ago-_

The Hyperion recruitment ship rumbles as it blasts through the atmosphere of Asteria. You watch numbly as your home planet, plagued with pollution, poverty, and actual plague drifts from the view of your window. You hear muted cheers and stifled coughs from the other forty-nine refugees in the passenger cabin. Fifty refugees, including you, out of the two hundred thousand people on Asteria... And the people you left behind. Friends, family, everyone you cared about, left there to die. So no, you’re not as happy to evacuate as the cheer squad on this ship, but you’re definitely not the only one who feels the way you do. A lot of people gave up everything to be here. But looking around at the relief on everyone’s faces, it seems they’re more focused on the fact that they’re no longer breathing the caustic fumes of their planet, rather than grief.

You take a deep breath and run your hands along the glossy canvas of your seat, soaking in your surroundings. You are quite literally out of your element. Everything in here felt... Alien. The plush seating, roomy aisles, bright lights and crisp uniforms of Hyperion officers was a stark contrast to your dirty appearance. With that thought you notice that you’ve been absentmindedly brushing your hair back and straightening your clothes. You quickly stop.

God, you wouldn’t have left if your best friend and family didn’t beg you to. When you applied for the internship at Hyperion, you expected to be able to bring your whole family to Helios. That was what the Officer Charles implied when he interviewed you. Charles mislead you.

_Fucking Charles._

You remember the feeling of walking into the interview all too well. The sterile metal room of the bunker, with two guards guarding either side of the door, and about twenty soldiers lounging around on crates and weapon cases. Other than getting checked in, your presence wasn’t acknowledged by anyone. No one greeted you. Not even a nod. But you could feel the burning stares through the helmets of the soldiers as you made your way to the back of the room to the sole desk where Charles waited. He was the only one without a mask or helmet of some sort.

“Hello, my name is (Y/N).” You say, mustering up as much confidence as you could, “I was told I was meeting with Officer Charles?”

He glanced your way with a look of pure disdain. You get the feeling that he really doesn’t want to be here.

“Sit down.”

You sit on the cold metal chair at the desk, noticing that he doesn’t make a move to do the same. If he’s trying to intimidate you, he’s succeeding.

_”Why though?” You laugh internally, “I’m not in a position to be a threat to anyone right now. Maybe it’s an ego thing.”_

“Is something funny?” He spits, breaking you away from your thoughts and you check yourself. Fuck, are you smiling? No, you aren’t, but maybe you look too at ease. You quickly wipe your face of any expression and sit up straight.

“No Officer, I’m just grateful that you’re taking time to consider me as an employee for Hyperion.”

This seemed to calm him down.

“Damn straight.” He grumbled, looking a little pleased with himself. So he definitely has a power complex.

“Let’s get straight to the point. What makes you think you’re qualified for a job here?” He looks you over, “Tell me what makes you think you’re special, kiddo.”

“Well,” you start, ignoring his last comment, “I’m a firearms expert, more specifically in modifying and designing the hardware and ammunition. I’ve been dealing guns ever since I could pull a trigger.”

“Give me an example.”

“Example?”

“I’m asking what you’ve invented.” He says impatiently.

“I don’t really... Invent guns, per se. I don’t have a brand.” You say carefully, then quickly add, “People commission me to refurbish and amp up the power and efficiency of the weapons they bring to me. I can make a flimsy first generation Jakob’s shotgun into a low-maintenance death machine.”

Charles didn’t seem convinced.

“Sounds to me like you’re a common repair woman.”

“Oh, trust me.” You smile politely, “I’m a firearm connoisseur.”

“Got any evidence to back up that bold claim?” He challenges, circling the desk and leaning on the edge in front of you.

“I do, actually.” You pull out your ECHO device and pull up your weapon inventory. You see a few soldiers from the entrance get up and saunter toward you, their own guns in hand. As you hand your ECHO to Charles, you pray to whatever god there is that it’s impressive enough to not get you shot.

The Officer looks through your arsenal. The longer he scrolls through your select masterpieces, the wider his eyes get. About five minutes pass. More soldiers have gathered around. A few are looking over his shoulder. You can’t see their expressions, but there must be something noteworthy they’re seeing because the tension is so palpable you could feel it in your chest.

“This, uh, these...” He stutters, “These statistics and effects- there’s no way they’re accurate.”

“They are.” You state.

“There’s no fucking way.” He argues, his eyes fixed on the screen as he pulls up your favorite sniper rifle, “Ninety nine percent accuracy? The bullets barb into the target? How is that possible?”

“As the bullet leaves the rifle it goes through a scanner that coats it in an outer shell, which contains the barbs.” You explain, “To make sure the bullet flies seamlessly through the air, the shell has sensors that release the barbs when it hits the target, making the bullet near impossible to remove without lethal damage.”

“And the accuracy? Whats up with the one percent?”

“Oh, I usually put one percent chance miss rate if someone buys the gun and they don’t know how to handle it. I don’t want people to come to me with complaints about how “they’ve been cheated.” If you know how to use a sniper rifle,” you emphasize, “You won’t miss.”

Another long pause.

“Well... Miss uhm... (Y/N).” Charles clears his throat as he regains his composure, “If you’re telling the truth, you’re hired. If you’re lying... You’re as good as dead. But still hired. You seem... Smart enough.”

He eyes the rifle one last time before handing back your ECHO. By this point every soldier in the room surrounded you. You don’t think about this too hard as you’re caught up in your own surprise.

“Really? I mean— thank you! Thank you so much!” You smile brightly, “You won’t regret-“

“Not so fast.” He interrupts and your little celebration ends abruptly, “I need to know a few things before we proceed.”

What? Then why did he say you’re hired? He then addresses the soldiers and guards gathered around your ECHO, ordering them to leave, which they do somewhat reluctantly. Once you’re alone, he speaks.

“(Y/N), how much do you know about Hyperion?”

Uh oh.

“They’re one of my favorite manufactures of pistols,” You say carefully, as you really don’t know anything about the company itself, “I like their-“

“No. What do you know about the inside works of Hyperion.” He asks bluntly, “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

You falter.

“I don’t.” You say honestly. He sighs.

“Listen. You’re a bright girl. And I’m not really a heart-to-heart kind of guy. But I will tell you... Living on Helios is brutal, no matter your position. You could be a goddamn janitor and still be in danger. Do you understand that?”

“Can’t be any more dangerous than Asteria.”

“But it is.” He deadpans, “You aren’t escaping suffering by applying here. You’re trading your problems for a set of new ones.”

You feel like a child being lectured, and frankly, you don’t care for it.

“I have a grasp of that at least,” you nod, “But if we _are_ having a heart-to-heart, please understand that I’m desperate. This planet doesn’t have much time. I don’t have enough money to evacuate my family,” you said pointedly, and he nods in return.

“Alright.” His eye soften for a second before immediately going back to his brisk, harsh tone.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, staring at each other. This is weird, even for you. You’re about to ask if you can leave, but then he breaks the tension.

“Uh, is there any chance I can— I mean, you can give me that sniper rifle?”

***

_I can't believe I gave him the rifle._

The ship has entered the loading dock of Helios, and when it lands, cheering erupts among the refugees. You unbuckle your seatbelt and stand up, stretching the stiffness from your muscles. You linger a bit as everyone grabs the little luggage they have and file off the ship, and once the bustle calms down, you grab your ECHO and canvas bag from under your seat and follow out the door.

You squint as your eyes adjust to the bright lights of the loading dock, but they quickly widen at the sight incredible vastness of the place. Holy shit. You tried to imagine what Helios would be like, but your fantasies don’t compare to the real thing, hovercrafts and surveyors fly around you at dizzying speeds, the clamor of people and loader bots disorient you. Home suddenly felt more far away than ever.

You rejoin your people in the entrance lobby. A chic-looking woman with square glasses was leading the group.

“Hey everyone. Welcome to Helios. My name is Yvette.” She smiles charmingly. You feel there’s something a little off about her.

“I’m here to welcome you and make sure you all get situated with your respective living areas. So my job is half done.”

There’s a half-hearted chuckle throughout the group. She retains her billion-dollar smile.

“Right. Before we continue, I’m going to have a few of my guys search your belonging for contraband. Now,” Her eyes scan the crowd, “Is there a (Y/N) (L/N) here?”

You raise your hand.

“That’s me.” You confirm.

“Great.” She chirps, “You’re coming with me. Everyone else, the guides will be with you shortly.”

She gestures for you to follow and you walk along her. You both get to a big set of doors with the sigh AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY on the front in big neon letters. You briefly look over your shoulder to see if the group was behind you, only to see them go through what you think is the main entrance.

“Where are we going?” You ask, furrowing your brow, “Aren’t I supposed to go with them?”

“Everyone goes separate ways eventually.” Yvette says in a completely different tone than her ‘Welcome to Helios!’ voice, “I was instructed to search your things somewhere else. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble.” She adds, noticing your expression. You walk through the halls with her, noticing how secluded this place seems to be from everywhere else.

“Your ECHO has quite an arsenal, I’m told.” She speaks up, “When we get to the lab you’re gonna have to hand it off to some engineers for research. You can take whatever you need from it, as long as it doesn’t shoot or explode. You know, standard company policy.”

“So these are labs? Where you guys invent new weapon tech?”

“Well...” she hesitates, “I suppose you’ll be working here one day, it couldn’t hurt to tell you...”

“Is it confidential?” You ask curiously, your eyes meeting hers. She grins, seeming much more genuine now than from your first impression of her.

“Yes, but not extremely confidential. We just don’t want people to mess with weapons around here. Not that people would. Over half of us are accountants.”

“Gotcha. So when do I start here?”

“Whoa, someone’s eager.” Yvette shrugs, “I’m not sure. I’m just the messenger.”

“Ohhh. My bad.” You say sheepishly, “So... Are you an accountant?”

“Yeah. Not a high ranking one though. Working my way up to the top of the food chain, you know how the biz is.”

You give her a “do I really look like I know how the biz is” look.

“Oh. Right.” She snorts, “You got here like fifteen minutes ago. Whatever, you’ll get it soon.”

“Thanks for the encouragement. I need it.” You say half-jokingly, “When I’m a bigshot engineer I’ll make sure to give you credit.”

She looks surprised for a moment at your comeback, then breaks out in another smile.

“You better. Alright, we’re here.” 

She shows you to a set of double doors with another security station. She presses the paging button next to the scanner.

“I don’t have the clearance to go in there, so this is as far as I go.” She says, turning to you, “Good luck.”

“Thanks Yvette. I mean it.” You smile warmly. She seems slightly distressed at this.

“Don’t mention it. I hope we meet again.” She nods before striding off in the direction you came.

Then the doors of the lab slide open, marking the moment where everything went downhill.


	2. Oh Cupcake, You’re In Over Your Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have any of y’all seen The Devil Wears Prada? You are Anne Hathaway, Jack is Meryl Streep. Or you’re April Ludgate, and he’s your Ron Swanson. God I’m having fun with this

You’re met at the door by a heavyset engineer with- what looks like to be- a bombsuit on. Like many other engineers and soldiers he had a helmet that made it difficult to see his face, but you can tell by the general vibe he’s giving off that he’s not up for chit chat. So you put on your most welcoming smile and start simple.

“Hey! My name’s-“

“(Y/N).” Has says flatly, “Yes, I’ve been expecting you.”

“Oh, well... Good, it’d be a pain if I had to explain why I’m here.” You fiddle with the ends of your hair, feeling a little awkward that you’re the only one who introduced yourself. He stares blankly at you. You try and break the silence.

“So, uh, what am I—“

“Give me your ECHO device and I’ll send you on your way.” He interrupts. Was he waiting for you to talk so he could cut you off...?

“Wait, I was told I’m going to start working here, you know, weapon tech and all that.” You try and cling to his the little attention he has on you, “Can you help me out with that? I’m not sure where to go next.”

“I haven’t heard anything about you working here. Now give me your ECHO.” He says, reaching for your bag.

“Okay, no.” You quickly shift your bag away from his reach, “Look, I know you’re not wanting to deal with me, you think it’s not your problem or whatever. But I just got here about twenty minutes ago, I have no idea where I am, where I’m living, how I start working, or anything really. And I was dumped in your care, so I kinda am your problem right now. Just... Help me out man.”

“My only instructions are to confiscate your ECHO and issue your standard Hyperion devices.” He says, once again attempting to grab at your bag, to whichever you whip it away and take a step back.

“See? Now we’re getting somewhere. Can you tell me about the living situation? And” you lean in and emphasize, “When I start working here.”

“You’ll have a room made out in sector 218, I’m guessing. There’s more information on personalized ECHO I’ll give you— AFTER you hand over yours. And as far as I’m concerned, you’re never working here.” He spits. You freeze.

“But I was promised-!” You start losing your composure, and he interrupts your protests.

“No one should’ve promised anything.” He makes a successful lunge at your bag, rifles through it before you have a chance to react. He pockets your ECHO, reaches into his own bag, grabs a handful of devices and wires (All tangled together. Great.) out of it and shoves it into your own before tossing it back to you. Not giving you room to speak he says:

”Find a different job.”

Then the doors slam in your face.

You stand there blankly, trying to process what the fuck just happened.

***

By untangling many of the wires from the tech heap the engineer gave you, you salvage your Hyperion-issued ECHO, and somehow get it to work. And even though you’re pissed about being lied to by Charles... You’re really impressed with the sleek, fast, secure device you were given. You still miss your own, but at least they didn’t give you a piece of garbage. You vaguely wonder if you’ll ever get your weapons back.

_Probably not._

On the ECHO you were given instructions on how to use the device and directions to wherever you needed to go. So you made your way to sector 217 (One sector off, thanks nameless engineer) and found a little metal room with your name on the door. Upon entering, you’re not pleased with the living situation... It reminded you of those rooms the town monks would use for fasting months back on Asteria, but more metal-y. There’s just enough room for a small metal desk, an even smaller metal chair, a single electric cooker, a mini fridge, and a small door in the back of the room that lead to a bathroom. The only luxury was your bed, which to your surprise was more comfortable than the one you had at home. And two pillows! If you weren’t jobless you’d pass out in those plush blankets right now.

But seeing as you don’t have any work, you drop off your stuff, grab your ECHO and identification card that was left on your desk, and head out towards the employment board in the information center. Hopefully you can find something that fits your interests and expertise.

***

_There’s fucking nothing that fits your interests or expertise._

You’re amazed by the amount of accounting and cleaning jobs there, which you’d rather be thrown out of an airlock than sit in an enclosed cubicle and press buttons on a keyboard forever. Cleaning doesn’t sound too bad, but the pay doesn’t cover the cost of living. So you stand at the employment board, staring into space and wondering if you should just cave to the accounting job. You may hate it, but numbers are something you can manage. But before you grab an application, your eyes fall on an information desk on the other side of the room... With an attendant. Maybe they’ll help you.

You walk over and stand in front of them, watching as they lack away at a computer. You think twice about interrupting what they’re working on, but then you imagine yourself doing the same, sitting at a desk, not moving from nine to five... Pressing buttons.

_Ehhhhh..._

”Uh, hi.” You clear your throat a bit, and they look up, “If you’re not too busy, is there any chance you could help me?”

They perk up a bit and smile at you, Oh, thank god, you’re getting good vibes from them. They turn away from their computer.

”Sure thing, I’m not busy. Unless you count getting the highscore on Grenadesweep ‘busy’.” They laugh shortly, “My name’s Alex, what can I do for you?” 

“I’m (Y/N), I’m a new refugee from Asteria. I was wondering if there’s any more jobs that... Aren’t on the employment board? I’m not too keen on sitting at a desk. May work for some people, but I would go insane.” You smile, “Is there anything I can do that’d be more hands-on or creative?”

Alex hesitates for a moment.

”I don’t really handle giving jobs—“ Then they gasp, “Actually. I do!”

”Well, if you have any suggestions, I’m happy to hear them.” You lean on the desk, hoping to hear some REAL good news for the first time in a couple weeks.

”It’s not necessarily creative. But it’s definitely hands-on.” The explain, “To summarize, you’d be the assistant to Handso— I mean, Hyperion’s CEO. There’s a little sitting around until he calls on you, but for the most part it’s very hands-on, diverse work with incredible pay.”

Your eyes widen.

”Holy- the CEO? As in, the guy who runs... All this?” You gesture widely.

”That’s what a CEO is, yes.”

“Why isn’t there a lineup? There must be people scrambling for that position.” You say in awe, “There must be an interview or something.”

”No interview, and no lineup.” They shake their head, leaning back in their seat, “The job is quite... Uh... Challenging.”

”I can do challenging.” You nod excitedly, “So what, I just do whatever he needs me to do? Like a gofer?”

”Basically, that’s it.”

”Sweet. How do I get started?”

”Eager, aren’t we?” Just give me your information, and I’ll update your ID card to your profession and permitted security clearance. Another perk,” They say, turning to their computer, “You can access almost everywhere on Helios.”

You’re sold. You hand over your ID and Alex updates it for you, before making a call to the higher ups that they “Found another one”. You get a weird feeling of unease at this but try your best to ignore it. When Alex puts the phone down, they turn to you and give you a bright smile.

”Everything is set. Here’s a Hyperphone,” They hand you a sleek device with a holographic touchscreen, “The latest model. I know, we need to get more creative with naming our tech. Anyway, Jack will contact you on this.”

You look down at the phone and back up to them.

”Jack?”

”Your boss. You might want to do some research on him if you wanna survive this job.”

”Right. Thank you Alex!” You lean over the desk a bit and squeeze their hand appreciatively, “You’re a life saver.”

Alex squeezes back and looks you in the eye, smiling softly.

”Sure I am.”

Your phone rings, and a message pops up in your notifications. So soon?

**Unknown number: Asteria chick, right? Be at my office in five minutes.**

Alex peers over to see the message, then chuckles to themself.

”You better run. Jack doesn’t tolerate hesitation.”

And so you didn’t. As you’re speeding away to the nearest fast travel station and scan your new ID to the upper level, you just barely catch Alex say to himself, “Eh, she’ll be fine.”

***

Three minutes. You made it to his office in three minutes. You did run into a few people and got yelled at, but you didn’t stop and listen. And you made it! So hats off to you. You approach the magnificent energy field blocking the entrance to Jack’s office, savoring the moment. You hear what you assume to be his voice come through your Hyperphone.

_”Eyy, there she is, the girl of the hour. Gimme a sec to disarm the energy field. Don’t want you to vaporize just yet.”_

You stand there a moment, contemplating his words. He seems really casual for the CEO of a billion dollar company. He sounds nice, even. You hope. The yellow light of the energy flickers then disappears, and there he is... Jack.

He’s not how you pictured him to be in your head. You imagined an overpowering old man, black suit and tie, with an aura of business about him. What you see before you is a guy in pretty standard clothing, similar to the style from your home planet. Dark wash jeans, an untucked white dress shirt with a with a jacket with the sleeves rolled up the forearms. He doesn’t look intimidating, really. He’s built, but not much bigger than you are. The only noteable feature is his face... Which is very good-looking. Seriously, those cheekbones are sharp enough to cut someone. Damn.

“What’s ‘sup, buttercup.” He says, folding his arms, “Heard from that desk lackey downstairs that you wanna work under me.”

”That’s the plan.” You nod, “My name’s—“

”No, no no no. You don’t have to introduce yourself. I’m not gonna remember your name anyway. I call you whatever comes to mind.” He gives a short laugh and turns away from you, “Follow me.”

You tail behind him, entering his office (which looks more like a museum/lounge), taking in your surroundings. Your eyes fall on the massive window behind his desk, with an indescribable view of a planet you don’t recognize. Your breath hitches in your throat and you subconsciously walk towards it.

”Beautiful...” You whisper.

”Damn straight.” Jack says right behind your shoulder, breaking your trance. You turn your head to him to see him smirking, basking in the glory of his view.

“Elpis. Great vacation spot. If you’re a fan of maniacs and not breathing.” He sits on the edge of his desk, folding his arms again, “So, new assistant, huh? And to Handsome Jack no less. You must be pretty psyched.”

Self-proclaiming himself as handsome? You’re getting a feel for what kind of person he is.

”Yes. I’m pretty excited.” You say carefully, smiling a bit. He grins in return.

”That’s great. I won’t kill that enthusiasm for you. Do you know what you’ll be doing for me?”

”I have an idea, I was told it’s a gofer kinda deal.” You say, quoting yourself, “I don’t have details.”

”Okay, let me give you a step-by-step walkthrough. I call. You answer. If I want you in my office, you’re here in five minutes or less, as you did so  _well_ just now. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing. Like, let’s say your mom is on her deathbed. You’re telling her ‘I love you’ yadda yadda, whatever, right? I call you to bring me a latte,” He leans forward a bit, “You bring me that latte. Having sex with your boyfriend? Hop off his dick and get to me. If I travel, you come with me. Whatever I want, I get. Pretty straightforward.”

“Well I don’t have a mother to die on me or a boyfriend to have sex with, so that’s not a problem.” You laugh lightly, wringing your hands behind your back. You weren’t intimidated before, but it’s starting to sink in a bit.

”So you have a sense of humor. Thank god.” He sighs dramatically, “Lemme tell ya, the last assistant I had? He had the personality of an old sock. Every time he spoke I felt my IQ drop. Had to get rid of him.”

“That’s unfortunate.” You comment. This guy really likes to talk, huh?

”Eh, wasn’t a total waste. It’s always fun to throw someone out an airlock.” His grin turns a little more sinister, and you feel your stomach drop.

”Can’t say I relate.”

”No? That’s a shame. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you take the next one.” Jack offers. You can’t tell if he’s joking.

”That’s nice, but no thank you. I couldn’t take away that opportunity for you.” You smile weakly.

”Awhhhh, aren’t you a sweet one. You’re right, I’d end up doing it myself. It get’s pretty boring around here, I gotta something to shake things up.” He cocks his head, thinking to himself, “Let’s see... Did I miss anything? That might be it. Oh, wait.

He presses a button on his desk and the floor next to him opens up and a large case rises up. The hatch on top opens to reveal an assortment of rare Hyperion guns. Your mouth waters as he reaches in a grabs a Win-Win Vision. He holds it out to you.

”Judging by your background check, I’m sure you know how to use this.” He says. You slowly reach out and take it from him.

”Ohoh, yeah I do.” You say, turning it over in your hand, “But, what’s it for?”

”In my world, there’s always going to be a use for a good gun.” He states matter-of-factly, “If someone tries to attack me, or if someone jumps you, or looks at you funny, pop a cap in their ass. Capisce, sweetheart?”

”I’m not a fan of murder, but sure.” You say, “If I need to use it, I will.”

Jack raises an eyebrow at you.

”’Not a fan’...” He mumbles.

Your eyes fall back to the weapons case, and a certain pistol catches your eye.

”Oh my god. Oh- good god.”

”That’s me.” He confirms without hesitating.

”No, I mean, wow. Is that an Earnest Logan? I’ve seen pictures, but never in person.” You give a little squeal, and reach for the said gun—

And that’s when he grabs you.

So now we’re all caught up. Jack, holding you in the air by your collar, pressing the burning Earnest Logan pistol under your jaw. He caught you so off guard you couldn’t react. Frankly, you’re scared to breathe.

”Always ask before playing with my toys.” He says softly, the underlying malice in his voice unmistakeable, “Actually, always ask to do anything around me. I don’t want to put a hole in that adorable mug of yours.” 

The pistol was burning your flesh the longer it was held there. That’s gonna scar. You curse internally for getting too comfortable around him.

”I’m sorry.” You gasp, tears streaming down your face against your will, “I’m really sorry. Won’t happen again.”

”Mmm, I hope so.” He says as he lowers you. You hiss as he puts down gun, feeling the cold air on your burn.

”You might wanna put some neosporin on that, pumpkin.” He says mirthfully, his hand still on your neck. He traces the outline of your burn with his thumb, making you wince, “We don’t want that lil mark to get worse.”

”I’ll get right on that.” You say, gathering every bit of your goodwill to sound understanding. Apparently it’s working, because Jack lets you go.

”Good girl. Now!” He claps his hands together and you flinch, “Off you go! I have work to do. As you know, I’ll call you when I need you.”

He waves you away, and you drift off in a daze, wondering what the fuck you just got yourself into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m done with exposition for the most part! time to jump into Jack and reader interactions ;)


	3. I Don't Think You Realize What You're Getting Into

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o man this chapter has been sitting in my drafts a while lol

It's been a couple months and your life has been a hot mess since you've started working under the notorious Handsome Jack. Actually, more like a never-ending wild goose chase. You follow him almost everywhere. Constant form and document fetching, appointments and reminders, and god, the  _lattes._  Why the fuck is the nearest cafe to his office on the other side of Helios? And why does he have this primal need for lattes at all times? Well... You know the answer to the second question. Pretzels and latte's are his life source. He can go through a sixteen ounce in five minutes, and in addition to that he just likes having one on his desk at all times. He doesn't even drink those, most of the time they just sit there and get cold. He usually chucks the cold coffee at clients he meets with when the mood strikes him. It's kinda funny. It would be more funny if you weren't the one who always had to clean up after.

You really didn't know what on Asteria you were doing when you first started, but at this point you're starting to get a grasp on this guy. Number one: He's very smart. Really, a genius programmer and businessman. Acknowledging that pleases him. Number two: He is so confident that it borderlines insecure. You don't know whether it's because he has his head up his ass or because he really is a prodigy and thus cannot mentally grasp the concept of being humble. Number three: He has a short fuse, no patience for anything trivial. He genuinely believes that everyone is incompetent and he can do better. Number four: He has this weird emotional barrier between him and everyone he interacts with. You can't describe it but... You just have a gut feeling that he has a boundary built so no one can cross into his world. Just an observation. Number five:

You cannot. Fucking. Stand him.

You respect him for starting at the bottom of the barrel at Hyperion and rising to the throne, you admire how hard he works to maintain and build the company. You do your job well and he ignores you for it, which you appreciate (really, it doesn't get better than that), he's comedically gifted in a brutal way, overall he's not bad in comparison to the majority of people on this god-forsaken ship. What you can't stand is he doesn't care about anything but himself. It drives you nuts. You don't have high standards for how much people should care, but shit- doesn't this guy have a family or something? Girlfriend or boyfriend? A friend in general? Kids? Actually, children would be a long shot. Point is, he doesn't give a shit about anyone, so you can't understand what is driving him so hard to dominate the galaxy.

_Why do I care anyways,_  you say to yourself,  _I get paid more than enough, plus I'm not dead yet. That's enough._

But a little voice in your head whispers more questions about your boss, spurred on by your curiosity. You groan and lean back in your chair, propping your feet on your desk. Jack set you up your own little "workspace" outside the door of his office. It's funny 'cause the amount of work he has you do in your workspace is none. He has you there just because he doesn't like waiting the five minutes it takes to get you to him, says that it wastes company time. You're on the clock 24/7 though, so you guess it makes sense. But you can't help but feel exasperated when he tells you to "chill at your desk for a bit", because chilling there could mean you're sitting there for fifteen minutes to seven hours. That's the record. The time you sat there seven hours was when he forgot you were there and went home for the night. So naturally, after that experience, you've supplied your space with things to occupy yourself. Some trinkets and hardware to fidget with, but mostly art supplies. You look over to your sketchbook, remembering the pages filled with budding ideas for new weaponry. Maybe you should get started on designing the--

"You're really living it up in here. Is this what you do when I'm not around? Stare at your desk and vegetate?"

Jack's voice quickly snaps you back to reality. You don't waste a second kicking your feet down from your desk and straightening your posture, turning towards him. When did he come in? He sidles up to you and rests his arm on the back of your chair lazily, looking down at you. This isn't new. You're used to his weird power-positioning complex. You look up at his towering figure.

"Hey Jack, how are you?" You ask calmly, "Did your meeting with the Torgue representative go well?"

"Aww, you care about how I'm doing? Well I'm fucking livid. The meeting was a bust, and it would've gone BETTER if Torgue's little mascot hadn't intervened." He scowls.

"You mean... Mister Torgue? Himself? Doesn't he have little to no claim to the company anymore since he sold it?"

"No shit cupcake. But he still has influence over the president's shots, meaning as soon as he found out they were considering selling to Hyperion he made a couple threats and Prez Smith withdrew his offer."

"Hm. The president sounds like a pansy." You muse, not dropping your professional tone. He gives a short laugh and you feel his bottled up rage diffusing a little bit. You can't help but smile a bit to yourself, whenever you get him to chuckle is one of the only wins you get with this job.

"That's a good way to put it. But talking shit about powerful corporate leaders isn't why I'm here." He says, leaning a little more on your chair, "I have a proposition for you."

Oh. Well, this is new. He's usually just ordering you around, not running things by you, and definitely not giving you  _propositions._  What could he possibly propose to you? Latte art ideas? His new favorite method of death? You inhale deeply and smile. Just roll with the punches.

"I'm all ears, Jack." You say, unable to mask the confusion in your voice.

"Relax, chica. I have good things to say." He grins in amusement, "You've lasted as my assistant longer than anyone else. Precisely four times longer than anyone else. And that's not luck or chance that you're still here. You're fast, you don't hesitate, you're smart, and best of all... You're easy on the eyes."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm kidding. Not really. But honestly now, I'm gonna level with you (Y/N)." He clears his throat and stands up straight so he's facing you. This feels weird as hell. Wait, did he just say your name...?

"You're good at what you do. And I don't just go tossing validation around, so this is the epitome of a compliment." He says cockily, crossing his arms, "Anyway, long story short I want you to take on more responsibility. Following me around on business trips and such. You'll also act as a go-between for potential clients. Kinda like a mini-boss! If someone wants to reach me, they have to go through you. How fun is that?"

"It's like a dream come true." You say carefully, with just a hint of humor in your tone. You weren't sure what to think about this new development. Jack gazes at you with his usual unreadable (yet cocky) expression, then claps his hands together.

"Lovely. Simply fantastic." He then stuffs his hands in his jean pockets, "Any questions?"

You have so many. Chances of Jack actually giving you helpful information are slim to none.

"Should I really ask them?" You smile sweetly.

"Exactly. You'll figure it out on your own." He smirks back, "Gah, you're so smart pumpkin cake face. Just love that about you."

What the...?

"Pumpkin... Cake face?" You can't help but contort your expression in confusion.

"Combination of pumpkin, cupcake, and dollface. Thought of it this morning. You're the only one I can practice intimidating nicknames on... But now that I say it out loud, it sounds really fucking idiotic. So let's scrap that one." He waves his hand dismissively.

"I don't know, I kinda like it." You say sincerely, "It's unique. Not intimidating, but has it's own charm."

"Unique is not the goal, it's more of a side perk. But since there's no need to scare you anymore, I'll call you that. When I feel like it." He says in an offhanded manner. Mid-sentence you hear his watch buzz with a notification you recognize. He has to leave for a meeting with his board of architects to discuss plans for a city he wants to build. Your eyes flicker to his wrist then back up to his eyes, which are still trained on you.

"Would you like me to bring you coffee to your conference room?" You ask, switching back to your business personality, "Five minutes late, I presume."

He makes a point to always be five minutes late to his... Well, any appointment really. The man really enjoys his little power trips.

"Yeah, and bring me a scone or something too." He turns and walks towards his office, and not looking back he says, "Also, bring your paper and crayons or whatever. You'll be sticking with me the whole meeting, and you'll want to distract yourself from the mind-numbing boredom."

You open your mouth to respond, but the door to his office is already shutting behind him. You swivel in your chair towards your desk, and your eyes fall on your sketchbook and art supplies. So many questions and uncertainties are buzzing in your mind, but you don't have time to dwell on what the hell just happened. You have four minutes to get a latte and one minute to get to the conference room. So you grab your bag and in one swift moment, you scoop up your books, grab your ECHO device and wallet, and head to the nearest fast travel station.


End file.
